


A Matter of Honor

by Arithanas



Category: Les Trois Mousquetaires | The Three Musketeers Series - Alexandre Dumas
Genre: Banter, Chance Meetings, M/M, Sharing a Bed, banter as flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21942412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Fortune wished that two rivals clear up the old affair of Rue Férou more than five years later.
Relationships: d'Artagnan/Jussac (Trois Mousquetaires)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	A Matter of Honor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prinzenhasserin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/gifts).



d’Artagnan dismounted at the door of that little tavern and a bittersweet smile appeared on his lips. This was Porthos’ favorite place to stay on the road to Troyes because the wine was plentiful and good and the daughters of the owner were on the forgiving side of the sixth commandment. Ah, good old Porthos, arm of iron and heart of gold. It had been—By Jove!—three years now since he married and left the service. d'Artagnan sorely missed him today. 

The place was almost as packed as one could expect from a little establishment along the royal highway. Along with the usual rural bumpkins and the weary travelers, d’Artagnan noticed a face he knew. With a shrug, d’Artagnan crossed the room and approached that old rival with all the panache of a young second son arriving in Paris.

Jussac heard d’Artagnan’s spurs before he could notice the musketeer. His face scrunched into a sneer before he could ever know what he was sneering at. It made sense when Jussac lifted his eyes from his dinner. d’Artagnan still looked like that youthful nuisance he met for the first time at the convent of the Carmes Dechausses. Distrust for that man had been sown into Jussac’s spirit one early afternoon and had grown steadily since. The sting of that defeat still caressed his beating heart from time to time. 

“A fortuitous encounter,” d’Artagnan said by way of greeting.

“Keep walking, Gascon!”

“Where do you want me to walk to?” d'Artagnan asked and put his hand next to Jussac’s dinner. “It’s not like I could bother other travelers or rub shoulders with those beneath me.”

“You can always choose to be alone.”

“And I will be better served for it,” d’Artagnan agreed with a congenial smile and stood stall. “But this is a public space and Athos insisted it was good manners to speak to those worthy of your time.”

Jussac put his piece of bread on the grease of his meal and almost growled. d’Artagnan walked behind Jussac and made room on the bench to sit next to Jussac, just to spite him.

“We should endeavor to have a civil conversation,” d’Artagnan said when the owner put his dinner in front of him.

“A hard chore to perform,” Jussac refuted and toyed with the bread. “What can you say to a man who drove a good length of hardness inside your body?”

d’Artagnan let out a burst of short laughter and raised the drink he had been provided. 

“Thank you?” d’Artagnan suggested with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“The pox with you and your edict-breaking friends!”

“I never knew what started that little feud,” d’Artagnan said, tearing a piece of well-roasted fowl. “Can you be so charitable to clarify why did I pass my sword through your body at that time?”

“Don’t play coy,” Jussac washed the bile from his mouth with a mouthful of wine. “You know about the slander.”

“What slander should that be?” d’Artagnan insisted between mouthfuls of bread and bird.

Jussac looked at the musketeer and sighed. It could be possible the rumor had gone cold by the time they crossed swords, but Jussac felt hard to believe this Gascon nuisance lacked the appropriate curiosity to ask his friends about it.

“The one about your friends…”

“My friends are far from perfect; much can be said about them.”

“You know they were inseparable before you came.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know why or how that came to happen.” 

There was no polite way to say in public what every cadet at the barracks kept repeating in hushed tones. Jussac leaned over d’Artagnan’s shoulder, and with more detail than needed and a more colorful language he only dared to speak away from the Cardinal’s quarters, he regaled d’Artagnan with the story. Jussac felt how d’Artagnan trembled, but he was far too distracted by the fragrance of those well-worn clothes.

“You have the wrong inseparable here!” d’Artagnan laughed once he had heard the sordid tale, “I believe Aramis was the one who enjoyed confessions!”

d’Artagnan had heard the tale, but, as Jussac pointed it out, it was all slander. Athos, Porthos, and Aramis would have invited him to warm a bed the wrong way if that happened to be true unless they looked at d’Artagnan like a kid. That could also be true… yet, the weight of Jussac’s hand on his shoulder and the way his breath caressed d’Artagnan neck gave him ideas and a new source for amusement.

“Are you denying it?” Jussac grumbled because that laughter ran through his body like a rough caress.

“Why should I deny it?” d’Artagnan asked, leaning on Jussac. “I wasn’t a witness of the story you tell and I can’t admit I have a say one way or the other.”

“I see you are not eager to defend your friends' honor.”

“Must I assume you consider such games dishonorable?”

Jussac got a good look at d’Artagnan and that mischievous face made him quiver. He wasn’t sure how to take that question because to his ears, that was not a challenge but an invitation.

“I wouldn’t call them respectable…”

“Nothing that happens in the middle of the night could be respectable,” d’Artagnan retorted with a small laugh. “That’s why we do it and don’t talk about it to the world.”

“Are you calling Midnight Masses an unrespectable affair?”

“Oh, we have a Huguenot among our midst?”

Jussac sprang from his seat out of habit; being raised in the middle of a war of religion does that to you. d’Artagnan got to his feet too, his hand already caressing the grip of his rapier. The owner came to them, all smiles and unctuous manners, ready to break up what looked like a fight. Jussac suddenly felt ashamed for causing a commotion.

“Should I show the gentleman their bed?”

Both of them nodded and gripped their cups. d’Artagnan noticed the word the owner had used, but apparently that went over Jussac’s incensed head. His night was just becoming ever more amusing. 

They followed the man up a rickety flight of stairs and watched as he pushed the heavy door. A huge, rustic bed with a thick hay mattress and clean linens was the only furniture of the room. Jussac darted d’Artagnan an alarmed look, but understood the owner’s logic: he just paired his guest by social standing. He wished his guests a good night as he pushed a cheap tallow candle into Jussac’s hand.

“You must confess to the fact,” d’Artagnan insisted, walking inside the room behind Jussac as soon as the owner turned his back to them. “People who worry about which side of the sheets some other person uses can be suspected of expecting to use that knowledge.”

“You lie,” Jussac said dryly. His cup was empty and he wanted another sip of wine to endure the night next to this Gascon pest. 

“You give me the lie, monsieur?” exclaimed d’Artagnan with a sheer Gascon smile as he tossed his empty cup to the bed, “You give me the lie, and will not toss away your doublet?” 

This time the zinger found its mark and d’Artagnan found himself hemmed up against the sturdy door as Jussac assaulted each ribbon of his uniform. 

“Oh, I see…” d’Artagnan breathed the words against Jussac’s neck, “You are in a hurry to get stabbed again...”

“The devil take your waggish tongue…” Jussac replied before doing his best to stop d’Artagnan’s incessant tease. 

Jussac attacked each corner of d'Artagnan’s mouth, leaving little space for a word to escape. d’Artagnan, knowing this would be the night Jussac finally returned him that ill-fated stab, laughed and enjoyed the moment. 

**Author's Note:**

> Rain helped to make the necessary corrections and this author is grateful for their help.


End file.
